(A little I’m-not-sure-what-this-is [free-form poem?] about Nutella)

Decadent, nutty chocolatey-ness.

Smooth and rich and great by itself, with fruit, or spread on a cracker.

Guiltily licking the spoon clean.

I see the results on my hips.

Rolls and jiggles on my sides.

Granny flaps on my arms.

The pooch on my belly grows a little bigger.

And yet I keep going back for more, until the jar is scraped clean.

I have to slap myself whenever I start reaching for it on the grocery store shelf.

Curse you, Nutella!